


Will of The Gods

by Aliensquidkitty



Series: Will of the Gods [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A very broken warden, During and Post Dragon age Inquisition, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gen, Headcanon, Loss, M/M, Multi, Other, References to Dragon age Awakening, Slow Burn, There will be too many Grey Wardens, Trust Issues, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-05 16:37:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13391865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aliensquidkitty/pseuds/Aliensquidkitty
Summary: The Old Gods are alive; They have plans for Thedas. Only a select people can communicate with them; The Disciples. They are the people who can prevent terror from ensuing.========Personal Headcanon about the old Gods. 2+ Years in the making.Weekly to Bi-Weekly Updates





	1. Prologue: Changing of the Tides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 1/29/18

**_800 years before the First Blight; Battlefield outside Vyrantium, Tevinter._ **

 

   

 

 An armored warrior strode towards it's brother, dirty blonde hair was shorn short. It's armor was elvish inspired with a hint of customization. The silver and green colors seemed to stand out upon the man's tanned skin. Pale honey colored eyes were sympathetic and understanding . The human placed a hand on his brothers shoulder. “You could have not have known that he would turn on them and us.” His Tevinter accented voice rumbled. “He is an Emperor but he was a Disciple, Dumat. You must loo-”

Ice colored eyes turned to him, the Rouge frowned and sighed “Andoral. He was  ** My ** Disciple.  ** My ** chosen one, and now he has killed the six that followed him.” The man had a sharpened face, a square jaw met with a straight nose. Pale lips surrounded by scruff of a beard. Ice colored eyes were sunken in and exhausted.  He hated himself, The second oldest and felt like a failure. “I created him! I allowed for him to be born and yet-”

“And Yet nothing.” Came a rumbling voice. The oldest brother, Lusacan had arrived. “We are all responsible for our Disciples. They are our voice and our embodiment. We Create them to be our Equals. This war that your Disciple has caused Dumat, it will lead to ruin in the future, leading to the destruction of all. We can delay it though. We can and will create a new generation. One better than this, It will not show for many ages but it will be worth it. Thedas will remember the cause of the taint,  WE created it… It is  our sin. Our prodigy will defeat it, let this world think that this fake maker defeated us. Defeated our High Priests, Our religion. We will know better.” The man lectured, a frown was set on a thin face, bright green eyes stuck out from the pale skin. The black hair on top of his head had been shaved short, showing the pointed ears. The warrior sighed and shook his head, sheathing his sword and shield.

“Lusacan is right.” came a woman's voice, her armored robes tattered by the flames. Light purple eyes were on a rounded face. Raven colored hair pulled into a tight braid, tab colored skin was muddy and grimy. Her staff cracked but it wasn't too serious. “As much as I hate to agree with him, we need to wait. Thedas would not be ready for us so soon.” Razikale commented, glancing over to the three younger brothers with a faint worry.

Urtheimel had sustained an injury, a deep gash to his right side. The man had black hair with raisin colored eyes. A hint of a beard was on his face, He was a warrior like Lusacan and Andoral.

Toth was a mage, much like Razikale. He had fire colored eyes, honey colored skin and ebony colored hair. Spirit magic flowed through his hand and to their younger brother's side. The woman could tell that Toth was chastising the other for being so reckless.

Zazikel, the middle child was resting against a wall. His blonde hair swept back and off of his face. Tan leather armor seemed to be a second skin for the Rouge, his bow was at his side. Honey colored eyes seemed to watch everything with mild disinterest. He was the God of Chaos. “You know sister. What happens if our taint finds us? You know that it will corrupt our bodies, causing us to leave these shells and form new ones.” Zazikel pointed out.

“Simple.” Toth retorted as he raised his gaze to the God of Chaos. “We leave these mortals a little bit of information… Lore. A way to stop our tainted bodies. It won't be easy for them. It will cause them great sorrow though.”

“Toth.” Andoral started, “Anything the mortals want will cause them Sorrow.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, Giving a low rumble. “They're faulted creations after all. They will want nothing more than to walk the Fade.”

“That will not happen. Sethius and the other six high priest's have been an example of not to do that.” Commented Urthemiel as he rubbed at his face. “How long do we wait? Until one awakes from the deep slumber untainted… That I did not agree to in the first place.” The man snapped with a growl.

“It's better than nothing Uri. Would it be better if we didn't wake up at all? And let this world tear itself apart? You do realize that it is a road to ruin that way.” Dumat snapped, his soft gaze turning into a glare. “I'd rather wake to a world still on the edge of ruin than to one that is dead and devoid of life.”

“Of course you would! You're the God of Silence after all, I bet you would thrive on it!” Urthemiel quipped with a harsh tone, glaring back at his older brother.

“Enough!” Lusacan bellowed as he narrowed his gaze to his siblings. “this isn't the time for fighting. The humans will be on us soon.  I suggest that we part ways before they figure out what is going on.” The man growled as he walked over to his sister and kissed her head. “We all take a country. I will go the fledgling country to the south east.”

Dumat growled and rubbed at his face. “I will protect Tevinter. This was my fault in the first place.”

Zazikel smirked and leaned back and gave a rumble from deep within his chest “I will take the Anderfels. Seems like fun.” He gave an excited shift of his hips.

Toth stood up and rubbed his neck. “I will take the plains to the south, Nevarra they call it.” the mage dusted off his silver robes and continued to frown, he didn't want to separate from the others.

Andoral gave a smirk and threw his arms around Lusacan and nuzzled his brother's shoulder. “I'll take Rivain. Who knows,  perhaps I will wake first.” he laughed before pulling away and sauntering over to Zazikel, making himself at home on the man's lap.

Razikale seemed torn, she didn't know where to start… Or go. “I'll take the country to the southwest.  Hopefully I will not  be bothered .” she picked at the hem of her robes, a hand brought her out of her mind. Urthemiel was smiling at her.

The little brother gave a noise of contentment, seeing his siblings spread out gave him an idea. “I'll go to the deep south,  I wonder if I can test the edge.” he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders, he wrapped his arms around his sister. Enjoying their closeness a little while longer.

Lusacan nodded and held out his arms for the others. “this may be the last time that we see each other for many ages.” The man rumbled with a frown. “We will find one another. Mortals can kill our bodies but they cannot kill our souls.”

The remaining siblings came close and embraced one another. A low hum began to echo throughout the area. It was coming from them. “We will bring him down. The whole world will see who is still in charge. They will fear us again. We are not God's for nothing.” Andoral admitted, being the first one to pull away from the others.

Giving them a wide berth, Andoral shifted. Bones cracked as he let his dragon body take over, black scales reflected the blood red sky. Gold accents  were littered all over his body. Standing at Thirty Two feet at the shoulder; he was not the largest of the seven. Yellow eyes blinked open and gave quite the yawn in the process.

His siblings followed suit with eagerness. Each one was black but they all had their differences. Toth had a bulkier frame and smoke coming out of his nose. Red irises narrowed to Lusacan. He stood a foot taller than  Andoral but he lacked some of the bulk as his brothers.

Urthemiel  was the smallest. Being a black and lilac color the young dragon stood at twenty seven feet, his wings gave an excited flick. He was quite eager to go. Lilac eyes were skeptical and unsure.

Zazikel was a black and red drake, his wings had hints of red along the bones. Standing at thirty feet he wasn't as tall bit his bulk made up for it. Orange  bled through the iris of his eyes.

Razikale was slim, almost snake like. The black and deep purple dragon had its face pressed against Andoral's shoulder. She stood at thirty feet even. Deep purple eyes showed a form of fondness towards the other. Her tail wrapped around Urthemiel’s, comforting the younger.

Dumat was interesting, he was large and skeletal. He stood at thirty five feet and looked more like an undead dragon than an alive one. Pale blue eyes watched his oldest brother. His wings gave an irritated flick as Lusacan nudged him.

Lusacan was the last to shift, standing at thirty eight feet at the shoulders he was massive. He was jet black with a squared head. Veil fire poured out from his nostrils and his eyes bled an eerie green. He straightened up and gave a roar, feeling it shake the land.

The other's joined in. Announcing their presence to the people still left alive. There was one last farewell nudge between everyone. This wouldn't be the last time that they saw each other.

Lusacan was the first to take the initiative. Taking off in a run the dragon flared out and flapped his massive wings, lifting him up and away from the others. He was heading south, towards a mountain range that he once caught a glimpse of.

The God had doubts, yes; he was the older brother but something about this worried him. Could he stay awake? To keep an eye on this world. His Disciple… The second generation was already forming within his mind.

A woman… One that could shape and defy the normality that was bound to her age. She would be a survivor, one had to be in Thedas. Her soul had to valiant at core; the one to protect those around her. She would bear life while being the one who would take it away out of duty. She could be the flawed Disciple that could counteract the Emperor of Old. She could earn the title of Empress.

Lusacan vowed to protect her. Although it would be another three thousand years before she was born. He could wait. He had to. Not only did this world need her, but he did too. Lusacan didn't know it yet, but this woman would drive him insane.

Landing in the northeastern part of the country, the dragon shifted down to a shadow. Standing at eight feet tall, the rather grotesque humanoid entered the Dwarven roads. Where the tainted ones lurked and bred. Green eyes looked around, long fingers wrapped around a corner of stone. He would rest here, even now he could feel himself drawn to sleep. No! He wouldn't submit to the call so  quickly . Fighting his way deeper into the most unused depths the shadow shuddered. He should thrive in the darkness but instead he found himself weakening with each step.

The shadow found a massive cavern that could hide his body from not only the Dwarves but from the tainted ones. The Darkspawn. With one last burst of power, the God shifted to his dragon form. Landing in a heap of limbs he gave a low cry before letting exhaustion claim his frame. Lusacan was not only weakened by this call but because of that war… he had to stop it. Where was he in this country? He didn't know, all he thought about was his Disciple. The one with Raven colored hair, Tanned skin, Deep green Tattoos, and Bright Gold Eyes. Her light laughter was the sound that soothed him. Tt was the last noise that he had imagined before slipping into an endless slumber for Eight Ages.


	2. Chapter 1: Changing of the Guard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song inspired this chapter: Shadow of War OST: Flames of War

25th of the Fifth Month, 9:40 Dragon

Thundering hooves crashed over the open ground. The sound of metal plating clipped and clanged together. A tall was stallion galloped over the terrain that was lush with the summer season. The horse and rider had been heading south, to Ostagar. The stallion had a jet black coat. His mane trimmed into a war cut, the mane was standing up on it's own, his tail was long and flowing behind them. No symbols were on the armor but who the horse carried would be important.

For seven long years the Warden Commander of Ferelden had gone missing. Vanishing into nothing after the Fall of Amaranthine. The Warden Commander the was an 18 year old girl, hardly an adult. Yet she had born twin boys who met their end by Darkspawn when the Assault on Vigil's Keep happened.

The woman who sat upon the galloping war stallion was a far thing from what she had once been. Her raven colored hair was shorn short into an undercut, the raven color was returning to the side of her head. Sharp golden eyes were set upon a rounded face, pale cupid's bow lips pressed into a firm line. A faint scar ran across her cheek as her upturned nose twitched. She wore simple leather armor, her old armor... It was Drakeskin, Master Hubert had made it for her when she was Warden Commander. Her Warden armor was hidden within the ruins before her.

The woman's twin daggers attached to her back. You could never be too careful when it came to the lower regions of Ferelden. The ancient ruins of Ostagar came into view. The rain started to pour down, it was rather daft of her not to notice that little detail. Slowing her mount to a slow canter she let her gaze wonder as she took on the overgrown battlefield. For ten years later... Not much had changed. The structures were still weathered. Old blood stains were still visible after endless seasons.

Pulling the reins back, the woman slowed her massive horse to a trot, entering where the human camp once was. The woman noticed how the camp was hardly disturbed after the last time she visited with her party. The threadbare banners of the Theirin heraldry still flew with the stormy breeze. Navigating the camp with ease, the woman rode her horse to the dilapidated temple. Stopping him before the ramp that brought them to the Altar. Dismounting the rather short woman strode up the stone ramp. Her mount shifting into a shadow man followed her path. It's limbs were long, abnormal to look human, bright green eyes watched her with concern.

"Are you ready for this?" the shadow asked, appearing beside her. Standing at eight feet, he dwarfed the female warden. Notes of concern and worry was evident in his voice.

"No, I'm not." The woman admitted. Her voice sounded exhausted as she approached a hidden chest near the back of the Altar. "But with your Brother's Disciple Alive and kicking; he has to end soon. Also, The first warden wants me dead. What choice do I have?" She pointed out as she knelt down.

"None." The shadow replied as he curled around one if the pillars. "It is time for you to return to Thedas. To help in any way. After all this-" The shadow unraveled and came up beside the kneeling woman. "Then you will learn how to come to terms with your doubts." solidifying; the man placed a hand on the woman's shoulder.

He had emerald green eye, his face was sharp yet softened at the high cheekbones. Auburn hair cut short in an undercut. He wore black and gold robes, Ancient Tevene writing embroidered on the ebony cloth. Gold rings and bracelets were on his hands, a gold chain rested on his hips and collar. Thick gold earrings were on the upper parts of his ears. "Then, you will learn how to forgive yourself about Amaranthine. Along with your sons deaths, Eiric."

Eiric Cousland, daughter of Eleanor and Magister Lucius Valgus. A forced coupling when Bryce Cousland had left for a few months for Orlais. Sister to Tyern Fergus Cousland. Mother to Bryce and Duncan Theirin. Their deaths left a scar on the woman seven years later. She was still the 'Hero of Ferelden' and the Warden Commander. Although now, she did not believe that she deserved the Hero of Ferelden title any more.

"I have no choice. The Emperor will need to be killed if we are to survive. There are seven of us and yet I've only met Askazim and Aldor." She admitted as she opened the chest and stripped out of her leather armor. More scars had been revealed with each piece removed. One scar stood out, it was a vertical claw mark on the front of her body, the Archdemon had pinned her down. His claw slicing through her rib cage and collapsing her chest with his weight. It had punctured her, through and through. She did not recover well at first. There were days following the final battle of Denerim that left her near death. Still, she recovered but had lingering issues. Her breathing was still wheezing and trembling to this day.

The woman picked up the silver chest plate from the chest. Twin griffons faced one another. Rearing on their hind legs and opened beaks, a small gash was across the center. A lovely scar from the Mother, a talking Darkspawn broodmother. Grabbing the blue and leather under armor, the woman seemed to put it on with practiced ease. It fit like a glove. It gave a sense of security as each piece of armor was on her slim body.

Shaking her head the woman shook the memories of her past. finishing attaching the last buckle to her chestplate. The man walked away and shifted into the black and familiar War stallion. The black horse shook his neck as Eiric led him away from the altar. The Joining chalice secured in the one of saddlebags. Lus snorted and flung his head as Eiric climbed onto his back. With strange pride the stallion picked up quick walk, heading towards the tower of Ishal.

Eiric slowed him up as she passed a burnt funeral pyre, raising a dagger in respect. She would never forget king Cailan or Duncan. The first two people who showed the young woman kindness after her parents deaths. Adjusting her reigns she lowered the dagger and frowned. "I hope you are resting well Cailan." she whispered before nudging Lusacan into a quick walk. Being careful about where he stepped on the stone bridge.

He threw his head as Eiric threw a cloak and hood over her body, to try and prevent the cold from affecting her too much. The stallion continued to Trot past the broken and crumbling tower. Past the broken platforms. The warden continued to frown as she did her best to ignore the memories that were returning to her. Memories of Alistair fighting the Darkspawn beside her. his sword and shield cutting through genlocks. They had been fighting their way to the tower, a mage and a soldier helping them.

Another flash of a memory coursed through her. The oger dead on the floor, the beacon was lit but the retreat of Loghain was taking place. A cry of her name as arrows impacted and pierced her upper chest and body as darkspawn rushed the stairs. She remembered falling and Alistair rushing to her side but not anything after.

Eiric shook her head and turned her gaze away from the area. The rain had started to fall harder, making the woman pull the cloak tighter around her shoulders. "Lus, I have a feeling that this... Will not end well." Eiric admitted.

"The only way to know that is by action and not hiding." The horse commented as he picked up a quick canter and down the hill, going out of the ruins. His hooves thundered over the muddy ground. His silver armor clattered with his movements. "The seven years that you had spent, you were working out your grief; Your pain. You have become a Disciple like no other, One of the night and shadows. Heed my words well child; Thedas will tremble at your feet when they realize what you are." Lusacan reasoned, brushing her mind with calm and reassurance. "You are more than a woman, more than a Hero. Do not doubt yourself. Instincts are there for a reason."

A smile pulled at Eiric’s lips as she listened to his words. "Let's go.” Lusacan added as he stretched out his gait and covered the ground with his stride. Taking it with an easy gallop, Eiric sighed rather at that information. "Spending six years in Minrathous. Learning what it meant to be an Altua and conforming into their society. You proved that you were more than a broken woman. You were the woman who shook the South, Who defended it against the darkspawn. It's time that you shake the world this time, few can achieve this."

"That... Doesn't make me feel better." she admitted with a frown, releasing the reins in favor of placing her hands on his wet neck. It was surprising that no wildlife was near the old fortress. Not after all these years. Thunder rumbled overhead as the ground whipped past. The rain pouring down and stinging Eiric's face. “What I am worrying about is finding them… The remaining five. What if they won't come with us?”

“They will have to. Eiric, you have to convince the others to accept themselves and you. There isn't a doubt in my mind that some of them are rejecting their very instinct. It's time for the Disciples of old to be reborn and show Thedas that you will not go away. Even if the Chantry will hunt us like dogs.” The God reasoned as he continued his easy gallop across the swamp. Leaving the dilapidated ruins behind them. Lightning crashed overhead, the loud boom of thunder shook the ground with its force. “You got a letter yes? From Askazim?”

The warden gave a nod. “He will meet us halfway on the Imperial Highway. I have to say, I didn't expect him to respond so soon… with everything happening here. The Templars and Mages are getting more and more out of hand. This Fledgling Inquisition will have to quell this, Not us.” Eiric commented as she picked up the reins and held them in a firm grip.

Lusacan gave a rather displeased rumble “You do not want to save the south?” A tone of questioning was laced within the tone. He did not expect this, the change within her was startling to say the least.

“Not Particularly. The south has soured too much for my liking. Too many bad memories have arisen, I'd rather stake my bets north. We need to head back to Minrathous. Along the way, we will be able to rejoin the others. That's my hope anyways.” She shook her head, golden eyes lowered and conflicted. Conveying her unspoken worry about their mission. She had many doubts about the world around her and ones about herself.

It took a good part of the day for them to reach the halfway point of the highway. Spotting a bay heavy draft horse with a massive Qunari on its back was a treat. At least they would not be alone any longer. “‘Zim!” Eiric called out in a friendly tone, slowing Lusacan to a walk as they reached the Qunari and his mount. “Dumat. Thank you both for meeting us.” A faint smile was on her lips.

Askazim was a massive Qunari. Standing at seven feet, eight inches; he was quite the intimidating person. His skin was the color of Ashen Rock, his cream colored short hair pulled back between his horns. The left horn broken off before it could turn upwards and back; a gold cap was covering the exposed area. A gold piercing was above his right eye, golden studs adorned the lower part of his pointed ears. Deep navy eyes observed the woman. The Qunari wore a deep brown cowl that hid his drakeskin light armor from the elements. Askazim’s obsidian staff was resting across his back.

“Aldor would have been here but he got tied up in Jader. He said it had something to do with the unrest in the Anderfels. For all we know he could have been tugging my horn to get my ass into Ferelden.” The Man replied, his voice was deep and masked with hidden emotions. Making his displeasure known about this situation. “So far, I have yet to be impressed by this country.”

A disdainful scoff left the woman as they made their way down the road. “I don't blame you. I've saved this country twice from darkspawn and yet I have no love here anymore.”

“Then why come back?” Came the question that Eiric felt ready to answer for once in her life. Tearing her gaze away from the landscape in front of them, raising her gaze to meet the other's. She knew she had to look defeated and weak.

“I needed closure, Ostagar is where I became a Grey Warden. The blight is a chapter in my life that I am starting to close. I'm not going to hang onto the past anymore. I know who I am, what I am. I'm not going to run again. Will you come with me? To Minrathous?” Eiric questioned as she rolled her lips, a worried habit.

“Of course, the south can defend itself. Let's get the other's, I'm sure it will be fun.” Askazim teased as he followed the woman, ready to defend her if it was needed. “At least you won't be alone.”


End file.
